


returning, regressing

by limeli



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28219473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeli/pseuds/limeli
Summary: “But it’s been so long, Jean. We haven’t seen each other in years. Look, no red string around my pinky. This can’t be real.”
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	returning, regressing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a fic based on one of [Alix's](http://twitter.com/windastur) jearmin sketches. They later showed me the final version, and I couldn't help myself! I had to write this. Thanks to Ali for the inspiration!

Hanji had been the best person he’d ever met. When the news of their whereabouts was released, everyone was shaken by it. To Armin, it made sense if he really thought about it. The world wasn’t ready for someone like them, but at least they’d fought a good fight before their last breath. Fixing his tie neatly, Armin looked himself in the mirror one last time, hearing Eren’s impatient warning for him to hurry. Taking his phone in his hands, he put a pair of dark sunglasses on and left for Mikasa’s car. Getting in the backseat of the huge jeep and closing the door behind him, he reread his notes before action would begin.

When they arrived at the entrance of the cemetery, they found something that seemed like a congregation – students, Armin’s colleagues, and friends all united in bidding Hanji their goodbyes. Standing up as tall as he could, he found Hanji’s homeroom class waiting for their turn to decorate the hearse with flowers and short messages. He was sure none of the attendants to this massive funeral could believe what had happened or, rather, how evil humans can be. Keeping his head lowered, being the most familiar one with the whole situation, he listened to Eren's comment on how old all their teachers had become. Still, assessing youth in such devasting events wasn’t going to give him any accurate observations.

Armin Arlert was the youngest of the staff of teachers at their school. He had decided to become one to follow on Hanji’s steps, and it turned out that, now, his job was more emotionally compromising than ever. Being the only Physics teacher with Hanji gone, he was the next in line to take the rest of the classes they had left behind – if he ever taught them. He knew well enough that winning the kids’ hearts over was awfully hard when someone they loved so much was to be missed for the rest of their lives.

Tightening his fists and straightening his back, he watched Levi, one of his colleagues and mentors, looking back at him. As static as ever, he stood next to Hanji’s husband, exchanging a look with Armin as if asking for help. Or advice. Armin couldn’t tell for the lot of words transmitted in such a glance just couldn’t be put into... words. They weren’t thoughts, they weren’t feelings; they were just a hurricane threatening to take whatever mental sanity they had left. Curtly nodding for a greeting, Armin was reminded of his role for the day: Hanji’s previous student. Levi and Erwin would be speaking from a professional perspective, not him. Fortunately, he already was strong enough to put things aside for his own good. Turning his head, his glossy eyes found Eren and Mikasa next to him, waiting silently for the rest of the crowd to arrive. Looking around him and finding other high school classmates, Armin realized he’d seen them turn into the grown-ups they were, all parting in different ways and becoming the adults they had aspired to be.

As he smiled to himself, he laced his right arm with Mikasa’s left while loud footsteps approached them. Behind them, Eren’s rival and his best friends ran desperately to join the congregation. _What an entrance_ , Armin thought, shooting the group leader a glare. Getting closer, the receptor of the message temporarily ignored him, quietly scolding the other two people with an annoyed face. As for the young teacher, he hadn’t noticed his stare had fixed on the other man until Mikasa cleared her throat to get his attention. Giving the tallest man in the group one last look, Armin moved his head to face front. His heart thumped loudly after finding the other’s tawny eyes light up at his presence. It was then that he noticed that, no matter how many years had passed, Jean’s smile remained unwavering whenever Armin was nearby. He also noticed that they hadn’t needed to wave their hands at each other; the greetings had already been delivered when earth met the ocean.

When the ceremony began, the shortest man from the 104th generation of students knew the funeral would suck. And hurt. Once all the people gathered around the hearse, everyone (well, not Armin – He knew already.) learned that Hanji didn’t really have anyone but their husband, colleagues, students, and a friend from the other side of the world whose name he still couldn’t manage to pronounce well. Truth be told, he’d heard from him several times whenever Hanji mentioned their adventures together, but he hadn’t learned to say it well until half an hour before the funeral began. Standing perfectly still as he’d practiced many times the night before, holding his breath and praying for his words to reach Hanji wherever they would be, he averted his eyes from the heartbreaking sight of Onyankopon crying opposite the Physics teacher’s framed portrait. Suddenly feeling seen, he held the hand that suddenly fell on his left shoulder and shook him lightly. Temporarily waking up from the living nightmare they were all in, Armin looked up at the person who waited for his reaction, frowning worriedly.

“We need to go,” Jean whispered at him from where he was, his breath suddenly shaking as he held a crumpled sheet of paper in his hands. Although he’d arrived wearing a suit neatly, by that time of day, he had already rolled his sleeves up and unbuttoned his collar to get some fresh air – much to his style. Still, he didn’t judge him; Armin wanted to do the same, but he, unfortunately, had a reputation to hold.

“I know. Thanks,” Armin whispered back and nodded in Mikasa and Eren’s direction, who smiled in return. Of all people, those three knew how hard public speaking was to him in such grave instances. Walking up the tiny stairs that led to the pedestal in front of Hanji, Armin made himself as comfortable as possible, pressing his belly to one of the podium’s corners. Tapping the microphone lightly, he looked at the mass of attendants, suddenly being unable to tell the difference between one individual and the next. It finally was their turn to say their last words to Hanji on behalf of their group.

Fortunately, after six years of not seeing each other, they had taken the last 48 hours to synchronize their discourse. Through some lengthy video calls, in which they’d had their meals together and even made each other company while doing their chores, they helped each other. While Armin assisted Jean to adjust some informal features from his part to more neutral ones, the taller man gave Armin tips on his public speaking. No matter how much they tried, Armin had stopped several times for his own sake. If he was sincere, he still couldn’t know how he hadn’t got better at such a feature – _I’m a damn teacher_ , he would say to himself as Jean spoke about what he was supposed to do.

“The kids just listen to your soft voice because they like you,” he remembered Jean’s comment from one of those days. “I was so disruptive back then that I think only you could’ve kept me quiet without raising your voice. Guess that’s why those rascals don’t need you being all tough and shit.”

They had been chosen to speak for the rest of their generation because they were Hanji’s favorites. Armin had been Hanji’s best student, apprentice, and one of their closest colleagues, while Jean’s presence in their teacher life was too strong to go unnoticed. Even years after graduating high school, Hanji and Jean would meet for coffee from time to time, just to check up on each other and share some advice. Moblit, who had just finished saying his goodbyes, had always insisted on how important both men had been to them, and the funeral was no exception. That had been their call, yet Armin losing track of time and space as he listened to Hanji’s husband was what had made Jean remind him of the task at hand.

Clearing his throat and breathing in, Armin’s thoughts disappeared when he found himself in front of the crowd again, the memory fading into oblivion. “Hanji changed things like no one else would or will,” he started speaking, holding on to the podium that was still pressed against his belly. From time to time, he would smile up at Jean, getting flashy grins back at him in the middle of some very specific memory they shared in a way no one else did. Speaking with Mikasa the day before, she had assured him that it would all be fine. Surprisingly to him, Mikasa had been righter than ever; it was more than just “fine”. It felt like he could let go of whatever was stopping him from feeling caged in mourning. Every word and every interaction with Jean as they talked about Teacher Zöe’s crazy doings made him feel comfortable with grieving their death. So, when the time came for the rest of the itinerary to happen, Armin finally felt like himself again, acknowledging the departure of a loved one.

“Armin!” He heard from a distance after the ceremony ended, and he turned around as the huge mass of people started leaving the place, all heads hanging low in defeat to the massive force of fate. Willow trees above their heads and dry grass below their feet indicated that no shadows could fight the Summer heat. He sighed and opened his mouth to reply, shifting in the marble seat he’d found minutes before to give Jean some space.

“Thanks for the help,” Armin said, swallowing loudly while he dried his tears.

“When have I not helped?” He got a cocky smile out of Jean to match with the silly comment. Smiling to himself, Armin bit his lower lip and glanced over the mass of attendants walking away slowly, the quiet but heavy sound of their steps against the ground making everything all the more gloomy.

“A few times,” Armin let out and shrugged, looking back at Jean, who he hadn’t realized he’d missed more than he thought. After all, they had reunited just for the sake of going through this together. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m shocked I’m not feeling like shit, to be honest,” Jean declared coldly, squinting his eyes as a ray of sun hit his forehead and made him move a tiny bit closer to Armin. When their knees touched, Armin found out their corporal movements had passed the test of conversation introductions. “I guess Marco already gave me lots of practice in this area.”

“Out of the two, you looked like the most prepared to work the speech out,” Armin admitted with a grimace, nodding his head slowly as he got a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. Putting the cylindrical object in his mouth, he looked at the sky. “I just was kinda expecting this would happen someday. People are just…”

“It’s still unfair. No one should kill anyone just because they’re different from what you think the norm supposedly is.”

“Yeah,” was all Armin could say, ignoring the piercing honey eyes directed at him. “God, so rude of me. Cigarette?”

“I don’t smoke anymore.”

“What?”

“Didn’t know you do.”

“Just when I’m… not doing so well?”

“You didn’t do it when we rehearsed.”

“I guess I just – didn’t need it that much back then?” Armin theorized aloud, though he knew the answer to that question pretty well.

“It’s okay,” Jean shook his hands in front of Armin as if to confirm he wasn’t judging Armin’s newly-acquired habit. “You just… I didn’t expect it. But it’s okay. I’m addicted to sugary shit now anyway.”

“Really? I blame myself for it every time.”

“There are just as many ways of coping with stuff as people around the world, I guess. Also, there are more important things I worry about.”

“Not me having cancer?”

“Dummy. That’s not what I meant,” Jean whined, suddenly regressing seven years to the kind of behavior he had exhibited in front of Armin so many times before. “Like, not at all.”

Getting a laugh out of Armin, Jean stared at his feet, and the teacher let out calmly, “This might- may sound kinda silly considering the context, but I’m really happy to see you… live.”

Feeling more relaxed at the words that had left his lips, he realized he’d been talking like a man from the wild west with the cigarette blocking his every sound. Taking it in his hands, he understood he didn’t feel the strong need to smoke, putting both objects back inside his pocket.

They fell silent as both looked down, their thighs and knees touching because of their proximity. The hot feeling that got into Armin’s chest left him at a loss for words, making him unbutton his own collar and take his jacket off, rolling the sleeves up just the way Jean had taught him to back in 2012. Feeling the subtle change in body temperature, he let his eyelids fall – he would need to concentrate on his breathing if he wanted to manage a simple conversation with someone after so long. Well, not someone as in anyone, but _that_ someone.

“I’d wondered when we’d meet again. I never thought it would be at a time like this,” Jean said after a hum, showing his exhaustion.

“What can I say? That’s my curse, I guess.” Armin breathed out, entwining his fingers and laying them lightly on top of his crotch.

They spent some more time in silence, taking in the view of the cemetery they were in. None of them dared to say anything, trying to make themselves comfortable in whatever words they had exchanged. When Armin thought Jean would start making his way home, he was surprised to hear something that made no sense at all.

“Shit, Armin. I – God, Hanji wouldn’t forgive me,” Armin heard Jean say hurriedly, like all those times he’d sounded when he’d put himself in trouble. Turning his head to face Jean, he felt his vision blur as slightly tanner skin blocked his sight, rosy cheeks and chestnut hair getting into what remained of his peripheral view. As if thunder had struck him, he felt his lips being invaded by something he had only seen and felt in dreams. He let his nose brush against Jean’s, kissing him back and closing his eyes in the process. Sensing the tips of his bangs poking his nose, he raised a hand to move them away, but Jean quickly took his hand into his and kissed him slowly. By the end of their first kiss, the two stayed glued to each other for seconds, though it had felt like a lifetime in Armin’s head. When he saw Jean’s face at a distance, his hair ruffled by the breeze and his lips all bright and puffy, he realized it had happened for real. However, the sight of tears streaming down his face was the least he would have expected from a kiss. Dumbfounded, Armin stared as if waiting for explanations since Jean had always been open about his emotions around him.

“Did you feel that?” Jean managed to say, voice cracking and his nostrils expanding, letting as much air in as he could. At that moment, Armin couldn’t quite understand if he was being melodramatic or anxious.

“Love?” Armin replied almost as a joke as he’d done many times before just to get Jean out of his chaotic states of mind. “Yeah, have done for ten years now,” he blurted out with a smile, drying the teardrops that sat in Jean’s cheekbones with his fingertips.

When his funeral assistant started shaking his head, Armin decided to let go, his chest filling with regret for having touched Jean and spoken to him with such entitlement. A pair of slender fingers, however, stopped the motion of retrieval, taking his hand as if it’d been a feather. Still not understanding, Armin waited in silence until the other man felt a bit more relaxed.

“So you didn’t.”

“Feel what?” Armin pushed slightly, moving Jean’s hand in his yet not distancing himself.

“Well, maybe. Maybe,” Jean continued, trying to make sense of the words he wanted to express. When red crept up his cheeks, he looked up at the peach-colored sky and stopped himself from speaking, sighing uncontrollably.

“Jean, it’s OK. Just talk to me.”

“Kiss me,” Jean said simply, and though it sounded like he’d heard that command from his raspy voice before, Armin couldn’t believe his ears. Already predicting the blonde’s reaction, Jean forced his hand onto his shoulder, assuring him safety with a smile. “Kiss me. It’s gonna be alright – I don’t bite,” he mumbled for the last time, his eyelids half-closed as if waiting for the other to make the move.

The offer wasn’t one Armin could refuse. Letting his fingers explore the nape of Jean’s neck, disentangling some of his long hair, he let his hand grip his crush’s head firmly. Closing his eyes before anything would happen, Armin let his forehead sit on top of Jean’s for just a minute before diving in. As soon as his thin lips touched dry ones, getting his chin slightly scratched by Jean’s scruffy beard, he felt something move him. A different feeling. Something foreign, yet so, so familiar. Opening his eyes just to check he wasn’t dreaming as he had in the past, he had a vision his 17-year-old self would have loved to see back then. His hand, still holding on to his lover’s head, felt a portion of hair that was considerably shorter from the one he’d caressed at the beginning. Feeling helpless, he took a deep breath and looked around the place, realizing his Jean was much younger, and his surroundings were dishearteningly different. Although it had been a matter of seconds, in which Jean remained static as he was able to scan the place from that big tree branch in the middle of a forest, the familiarity of it all struck him senseless. Feeling tears well up to the tinge of blue, he held on to the other boy’s jacket, stroking the embroidered blue and white wings on top of his heart. Letting his lips fall back on Jean’s, he took a deep breath as the mane he sported blocked his eyes and became the few strands of hair that usually fell on his forehead.

Sensing he had returned from that dream, he distanced himself from the other man, pressing a hand to his lips with immeasurable disbelief. Sitting still, patiently silently, Jean moved closer just to verify Armin wasn’t harmed in any way.

“Was I so much different?” He attempted at talking it through, hearing Armin’s shaky breaths as the shorter man took care of his own tears the way he’d usually done back in high school.

“But we were–“

“You know what that means.”

“No.”

“Yes. And it’s great.”

“How’s this possible?”

“No idea,” Jean laughed out, making Armin’s heart skip a beat. “But I’m cool with it. More than that. Oh, man. Are you ready?”

“What for, Jean?” Armin asked with a trembling lip, his eyes open like plates. Realizing he’d ignored most of their interaction just because he’d been worried, the color drained from his face. “Wait. Why did you kiss me? Jean, we’re in a cemetery. Please, don’t mess with-”

“I’ve liked you for so long I can’t even tell when I started feeling like this,” Jean shrugged, amused at Armin’s delayed reaction. “Now, it makes sense, though. I’m glad Hanji encouraged me.”

“So that vision means...” Stopping his train of thought, he felt his talk falter mid-deduction. He knew of a few cases around them in which people had found their soulmates from another time, but he hadn’t thought it applicable to his case. Right there, on the cold marble, his nails scratched the surface lightly while he looked up into Jean’s eyes. “You were always my soulmate?”

“And you were mine.” Jean nodded slowly, giggling nervously.

“But it’s been so long, Jean. We haven’t seen each other in years. Look, no red string around my pinky. This can’t be real.”

“It’s the memories, Armin.” Jean looked around the place, covering his lover’s hands from the cold breeze. “Look, don’t go all rational on me now. I love it but, please, don’t. It’s the heart we’re talking about here, man,” he whispered pleadingly as if to convince Armin of something he had no explanations for.

“I love _you_ ,” Armin whispered, drying his eyes for the last time before standing up from their seat. “God, it never made sense just how I could never get rid of you.”

“Well,” Jean grabbed his coat and stood up right after, throwing Armin his and taking a few steps towards the exit. “What can I say? I’m unforgettable.”

“Shut it.”

“And Armin?” Jean said, listening to the soft hum that came his way, hearing the sound of Armin putting his coat on and buttoning it. Smiling and turning his back to get the blonde’s attention, he continued with a huff, “Don’t do that again. You had me convinced that it was all over for us.”


End file.
